


In Their Shoes

by windsandxenon



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion, Rebuild of Evangelion | Evangelion: New Theatrical Edition
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Bodyswap, Depression, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Other, Time Loop, Trans Character, timeloop theory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-01 13:45:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4022116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsandxenon/pseuds/windsandxenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loop theory, except this time it isn't Kaworu that's the alien. [I will add to the tags as the story progresses. Please check the notes at the beginning of each chapter for warnings and possible triggers!]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Body

A pale hand drew up in front of his face.

It led down to a pale wrist, pale forearm, and a pale bicep that was swallowed up by white linen. The clothing was familiar, but Shinji wondered if he had spent too much time out of the sun. _Impossible_ , his inner voice replied, _your skin is much tanner than this, even under a white light._

Shinji squeezed his eyes shut. His eyelids felt much more paper thin than usual, and he could see the blue veins running through them. Odd, those were usually red. His head felt much heavier, too, more like a weight was dragging his neck back rather than a headache. Speaking of, his mind felt much calmer, too, as if a cool river ran through his thoughts instead of the usual, dull thud of relapse a-knocking. On the other hand, he felt as if he could hear whispers. Very faint, fleeting voices in a language Shinji couldn’t recognize because the whispering was so far away.

Shinji swallowed. That’s one negative. He felt parched, but also, not bothered by it. He didn’t feel that he needed water, even though his saliva scorched the inside of his throat.

Something was wrong, _very_ wrong, yet Shinji had never felt better.

Shinji rolled his shoulders. They felt powerful but his bones felt much thinner and lighter. Again, his skin felt like it could tear at any moment. It was so delicate and…unnecessary, Shinji felt for some reason. However, he kept it on.

That thought repeated endlessly in his mind, going unquestioned, and the whispers grew angry and even more hushed in response.

Shinji went to crack his neck. There was no response from his shoulders or spine but a slight twinge in protest of straining his muscles too much. Weird. That didn’t usually happen.

A sudden wave of boredom suddenly came over Shinji. Why was he even doing this? He’s always had this body, even though he never remembered feeling like this in his life. Did NERV inject him with some sort of drug? Was this some sort of test? It certainly seemed like it – it looked like he was on the Moon. The air around him seemed to have a fairly purple tint to it, and equipment and tents circled him in the distance. Perhaps this was some sort of game he was playing.

He sighed. The noise that came out was guttural but soothing.

That was not his voice.

“Hello!” Shinji called out. The voice boomed across the landscape, despite there being no atmosphere on the Moon – was this really the Moon? -  to carry the sound. This sound had the same soothing but very, _very_ alien tone.

He was too scared to explore his body further.

Shinji tugged at his hair. He felt like he had never seen anyone with this color hair besides Rei – who? – but at the same time his heart filled with warmth and a sense of displacement at the sight.

He felt like he was exactly where we was supposed to wake up.

This had to be some sort of test, some sort of game -

Shinji stood up frantically. His newly-weak knees almost collapsed as he was almost propelled into space, almost tumbling ad infinitum. He was able to keep himself grounded through sheer willpower.

White hair, thin skin, pale, pale, pale hands – Shinji fumbled around desperately, looking for help. This was real. This was real.

He could feel a solar wind make his body shiver.

He caught sight of a reflective moon rock. His eyes looked like the life he squeezed out of –

Shinji whirled around, unable to look any longer.

He saw the blue marble sphere, his home, the planet he has to destroy, far away. Too far away. Too real.

Shinji screamed.


	2. Misnomer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for: blood, gore, murder

Monitors went off everywhere. Yellow flashed in the young lieutenant’s face as they fell over from their nap at the control board.

Luckily their co-control was already at the ready, swinging across the room in her identical swivel chair. She came to a sudden halt when the wheels of her chair almost smashed into the lieutenant’s face.

“Hey!” she glared pointedly, arms stretched outwards to continue turning dials and ignoring calls, “What the hell are you even here for?”

“Sorry,” they murmured, pushing their cap back up and scrambling up to copy their co-control from the other side of the room. They barely finished with the first board by the time Co-control made it to the second-to-last board. Co-control glared at them, again.

The lieutenant shrugged, “It’s not like anything ever happens up here.”

“Well don’t let yourself get caught off-guard again,” Co-control huffed and stared back out into the empty, dead space beyond the pan of clear windows in front of them, “Honestly, I don’t see what could have triggered the alarms all the way out there. Unless SEELE is doing something aga-“

An orange spiral crashed through the bomb-proof windows, a sudden lack of pressure trying to stabilize with the Earth-like conditions of the room. The lieutenant watched as Co-control was dragged head-first through the open space in the window, screaming. Her face was stretched, almost like the surface of a rubber band. Her flailing got her hand caught on one of the jagged edges of glass, leaving behind splatters of blood and two fingers. Co-control’s scream was soon shut out by the emptiness of space, followed by a constant outflux of paper, pencils, pens, coffee mugs, and eventually the table, which soon snapped in half under the intense difference in pressure.

Weirdly, the lieutenant themselves didn’t feel any effect from the sudden attack, aside from a strong desire to stay glued to the chair. Where was security? They thought they could hear knocking from the padlocked door, although there was no way they could get in without being let in from the inside. Their eyes stayed glued to the expanse of the crater-ridden Moon.

Five minutes later, the pressure from space stopped sucking whatever life was left inside the room. The lieutenant’s eyes felt like they were being forced open, gaze trained on an approaching figure from where Co-control had disappeared. It almost looked like she was coming back, but that wasn’t her figure. The clothes were much too big for the shorter stranger, and definitely too baggy. They looked like they were unironed and left on a hanger. As the figure got closer, the lieutenant could see a mop of shaggy, white hair on the stranger’s head, and a pair of glaring, red eyes. The lieutenant was reminded of Co-control’s blood being thrown from her body as she was ripped violently from the room.

The stranger leapt neatly into the room. Despite looking thinner than a stick, the stranger found no trouble with performing this almost acrobatic act. After landing, they turned to face the lieutenant.

A wall of screeching and white noise slammed into the lieutenant’s mind. They felt the entire turmoil of something so alien, so foreign, rummaging through their thoughts, discarding all that was not useful and eating away at the edges. The constant image of a bespectacled woman mouthing _useless, pathetic, worthless_ repeated in the lieutenant’s mind, the woman soon multiplying into a neighborhood, a city, a nation, taunts spilling from their mouths like the bile that ran among their shoes, choking the lieutenant’s nostrils, mind, mouth, throat, being-

“What is your name?” the stranger asked. The torture stopped to permit his speech, and continued afterwards.

The lieutenant gargled.

The stranger clenched his jaw. He closed his eyes momentarily, then the same orange light spread from him, suddenly, in octagonal waves.  The torment quieted to a subtle thunderstorm threatening to tear the lieutenant’s skin. They felt like ants were biting from under their flesh, their only goal to torment and annoy and draw blood.

“What is your name?” he repeated.

“Hisaya Oono,” the lieutenant replied without missing a beat.

“What am I doing here?” he said.

“I don’t know,” the lieutenant felt themselves crying.

“What am I doing here…?”the stranger leaned down, putting his hands to his head and clenching his teeth.

“Please…” the lieutenant felt their head swirl and compress.

“Tell me what I’m doing here…” he demanded, tears dripping onto the floor, “Tell me!”

The lieutenant screamed, their eyes bulging. _Pathetic, pathetic, worthless, useless, pathetic, worthless, PATHETIC, USELESS, WORTHLESS, USELESS, PATHETIC -_

For some reason, the pressure on their skull stopped. The stranger also stopped shaking.

“I remember him,” the stranger whispered as a dent was made in the door.

The loud bang startled the stranger and the lieutenant suddenly felt no more.

 

* * *

 

The tears Shinji had shed onto the pastel blue tile floor mixed with the blood and clear, thick fluid. Shinji was breathing heavily – again, his body told him this was unnecessary, but how could any of this be possible? – as the bangs on the door continued to successfully make more and more dents.

Who was after him? Who was after him? Who was after him?

The door finally opened, revealing a group of individuals clad in purple uniforms. They parted to reveal Fuyutsuki.

The old man tsk-ed, hands clasped behind his back. Shinji never felt so relieved to have someone disappointed in him.

“Fuyu-“ Shinji reached out towards Fuyutsuki, ignoring the deep tenor of his voice. A single, startling noise echoed in the room as pain pierced Shinji’s hand and shoulder.

Shinji found a bloodied hole in the center of the back of his right hand. There was a deep gouge with the same diameter on his right shoulder. Shinji stared at the wounds in shock. The pain from both injuries hurt like _hell_ , but he felt completely calm emotionally. Somehow, he knew that normally he would scream and puke, but he was nothing but calm. Calmer, if that was even possible.

Fuyutsuki stayed where he was, hands clasped behind his back as if one of his soldiers just hadn’t shot Shinji through the hand. He gazed down at Shinji with thinly veiled contempt.

“I suggest you get up,” Fuyutsuki rolled the words off of his tongue. Shinji would have missed the fatherly undertones of his voice if it weren’t for the current situation, and him not being able to recall exactly why he would miss it. It wasn’t like Fuyutsuki was acting any differently towards him, and yet Shinji remembers him always having a silent compassion and pity for him. Weird.

Shinji did as he was told, and the muzzles of the soldiers’ guns followed his chest and head. Blood still dripped from Shinji’s chin where it had splattered on him, and the same was happening down his right arm.

Fuyutsuki turned on his heel. Shinji recognized that look and followed.

“You do realize that this means we have to send you down to Earth earlier than planned,” Fuyutsuki spoke once Shinji arrived next to him as they continued down the hall, soldiers flanking them, “SEELE won’t be happy with you killing two officers, as replaceable as they were.”

Shinji looked up at Fuyutsuki with silence. The older man glared down at him, then looked taken aback.

“Don’t have another outburst like that again,” Fuyutsuki reprimanded sullenly. Shinji raised one eyebrow, then looked back ahead. What could he have done to make him react like that?

He remembered he wasn’t in his regular body anymore. His body had changed. He looked different, and Fuyutsuki probably didn’t recognize him.

However, he did. He recognized him as _somebody_ , just not as Shinji. It made him wonder if there was some monstrous equivalent to himself on the Moon. It made him wonder if that meant the body he felt most comfortable in was discarded somewhere in this facility. Worse, inhabited by someone else.

Shinji swallowed. What happened to his body?

Fuyutsuki stopped at a door, which mechanically slid open to reveal a high pressure shower. Shinji was familiar with it, but neither parts of his memory seemed to appreciate it. The whispering in his head grew more nervous and upset, but its continued hushed tones hinted at how whatever this was, was inevitable.

Shinji felt something hard and small push him into the room. He looked back at the muzzle of the gun, then up at the clearly nervous soldier it was held by.

“You’re set to leave in three hours,” Fuyutsuki informed him, refusing to show him the time on the watch that Shinji _knew_ he had pushed up his sleeve at all times, “Shower and get out quickly, then head to Port B. Councilman 05 will be with us shortly.” The door shut in both of their faces after two of the purple-clad soldiers shuffled up beside him.

As soon as the sight of Fuyutsuki was gone, Shinji’s nervousness returned. Shinji looked at both of them expectantly. He was too disoriented and afraid of those guns to figure out how to start the shower. He felt his anxiety creeping up on him – rather, he was expecting it.

Normally, he knew, he’d start fiddling with his hands, or his pockets, or the hem of his shirt due to his anxiety disorder, but that was gone. Was this what people felt like without a constant worry of what they looked like? It was…less noisy in his brain than he remembered, even with the anonymous voices rummaging around in the caboose of his train of thoughts.

This really _wasn’t_ his body.

The two soldiers looked at each other. The one on Shinji’s right shrugged and despondently walked over to the wall where there were three switches above a huge, round dial. He reached out with a gloved hand to turn the red line on the dial, then flicked the two switches on the left and the middle. In response, the shower head behind Shinji swiveled around towards Shinji.

Shinji turned around and looked at it. It followed his every twitch.

When the water started, it felt like someone was kicking him repeatedly.

 

* * *

 

Shinji came out of the shower looking like a wet, upset dog.

Fuyutsuki’s demeanor didn’t change, however. His reaction wasn’t unusual, then. Shinji mused that whoever’s body he was in still must not be used to the whole shower process, even though it seemed like it was a fairly common occurrence for whoever this was. At least he was clean.

Shinji picked at his new clothing. He would have thought the soldiers would have told him to undress before the shower started, but now that set of clothes was wet and probably shredded from the intense beating of water on his back. What he had on now was the same, except for the purple insignia on his breast pocket and the blackish-purple beret resting on the side of his head. It was itchy.

They were all standing at a circular entrance, a closed hatch similar to the one to the shower. The same two soldiers flanked Shinji, and two, more-responsible looking ones stood behind Fuyutsuki.

“So, why do I have to be sent back ho-to Earth so much earlier?” Shinji began.

Fuyutsuki replied, “Not everyone in this facility is aware of you, at least, not aware of what you are. You brutally murdering two communications officers will be noticed by many, and we can’t have you ruining all of our hard work because you had a sudden outburst.”

Shinji avoided Fuyutsuki’s glare. He didn’t remember wanting to kill anyone. He just hurt a lot and he knew someone was there to blame-

“Councilman 05 will debrief you on what you need to know to prepare during your two extra weeks there,” Fuyutsuki continued, “Get acquainted with your target well.”

 _Target?_ Shinji hoped he wouldn’t have to kill anyone else. He could still feel the blood splattering onto his forehead. Oddly, he did not mind. It’s almost as if he enjoyed being covered in life. If it was going to be outside of someone’s body, it might as well be appreciated.

As Fuyutsuki turned to murmur something to one of the purple-clad officers, Shinji noticed something. He knew Fuyutsuki from somewhere, and he felt more familiar than he should with the way he’s been treating him. He followed his orders without retaliation, not just because he didn’t care, but because he felt…respect towards him. Why?

The term “NERV” flashed in orange behind his eyelids as he nearly closed them in thought. His eyes flew open.

NERV. He knew that name. It was SEELE’s partner. Is. Why did he say “was”?

Who was SEELE?

Shinji wanted to ask but he felt this was something he should know. He looked up at Fuyutsuki again. This man wasn’t supposed to be here. Something about this was wrong. It was _different_.

Footsteps came from his right and all six of them turned to face a floating black object. “05” was printed in bright blood red on the front.

“Tabris,” a robotic voice drawled from the object. The two soldiers flanking it seemed unfazed.

Shinji looked around at Fuyutsuki and the other four soldiers. They were all looking at him. “Uh, yes?” he said. His voice was unintentionally calm, and so came out sounding sarcastic. Shit.

“You do understand that you will now be placed under surveillance,” the voice continued on. Shinji heard a hint of disgust in their voice. “You have broken your word on staying under cover while you recovered on base.”

“Well, I-I…” Shinji’s excuse faded into silence.

“What’s done is done,” the voice interrupted. They sounded tired. “As for your travel to Earth, all has been prepared for your arrival. You will be transported to NERV Headquarters, and from there you will set up your apartment. This is vital as not to attract any attention from your target. Become acquainted with him and gain his trust.”

“Why?” Shinji blurted. This was new and unusual information to both sides of his memory.

Shinji swore he could hear a smile from the anonymous voice. They slurred, “We have had a change of plans.”

Shinji stayed silent. He could hear static from something being passed around, something plastic, and the voice continued, “Your target goes to the school you are being assigned to. You will be driven there. He is easy to miss. Average height…” A page flicked and curled around, static fizzing. “…brown hair, blue eyes. Shinji Ikari.”

Any trace of emotion and color drained from Shinji’s face. No. _He_ was Shinji. _His_ name was Shinji Ikari. This has always been his name. He was the sheepish, selfish child who was brought to NERV, brought to fight for humanity. He was the anti-hero no one cared for. He was a tool with emotions. He had fake superiors, fake family, fake friends. He was drab, boring, and never stood out. He practically begged to be bullied just by the way he hunched over. He was Shinji Ikari. He called himself that. Others called him that…

Since when, though? Trying to backtrack, Shinji now found that no one had ever called him that. Actually, humans very rarely communicated with him, never mind talking to him. He couldn't remember more than a year’s worth back, either, despite feeling like he was old.

Very old, and tired. So very old, and tired, and hopeless.

The floating mini-monolith seemed to be bored. “You will receive the rest of your instructions on Earth. You know what you are here for, Tabris.” It left down the opposite hallway, soldiers mechanically marching after it. 

 _My name isn’t Tabris!_ Shinji felt like screaming. His chest felt hollow, and he clutched at his white linen shirt. _I_ am _Shinji Ikari, it’s me!_ Shinji frantically looked over at Fuyutsuki, eyes wild. The older man looked faintly more reminiscent – and pained? – at the mention of _him_. That was _him_ they were talking about and yet they were acting like he wasn’t even right there in front of them!

Shinji felt himself panicking again. His knees started to buckle. “This can’t be happening…” he gasped.

Fuyutsuki turned to him, his face turning cold and unfeeling again, “But it is. This is your own doing, and it is your destiny.”

The metal sheet separating them from the travel pod disappeared.

“No…no…” Shinji shook his head. He could feel his hair, still damp from the shower, swaying side to side with him. “Can’t you see?”

Fuyutsuki raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. The guards behind him raised their rifles.

“I’m not…this isn’t…” Shinji gasped for breath. This wasn’t the usual panic attack, but he felt his chest constricting, and the voices in his mind growing more frantic and more pleased with him. His head felt like it was vibrating.

“Tabris, get in the pod,” Fuyutsuki barked.

“No…” Shinji moaned and slid his palms up to his face, leaving red claw marks on his cheeks. He sank down on his knees, “It’s me…please…”

Fuyutsuki nodded at one of the shoulders and they grabbed Shinji by the back of his collar. Shinji didn’t necessarily resist, but he let his shins drag along the floor, making it harder to drag him.

He got thrown into the large, circular pod. It had another hatch, possibly leading to a control room. He was being flown down whether he liked it or not.

Fuyutsuki seemed to be much less uptight now that Shinji was inside of the pod. “Good luck, Tabris,” Fuyutsuki sneered and turned his back.

“I’m not-!”

Fuyutsuki glared over his back, “Do not fail us.”

The pod detached from the rest of the structure. Shinji cried wordlessly at the cold metal wall as he hurtled off into space.


	3. You Are...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for: decapitation, murder, suicidal thoughts, transphobia

Shinji stayed curled up in a ball for the main part of the journey.

It wasn't too long after they left, however, that he wondered how long it would take to reach the Earth. He could get hungry.

Shinji pondered that, since he didn’t need water, perhaps he didn’t need to eat.

He blew someone’s head open, apparently. He heard them talking about it on the radio unabashedly. Did someone so…godly need to eat?

Someone saying the word “god” upset the voices in his mind. Their tone didn’t become creepy, per se, but Shinji felt as if he should never make that slip up again.

He was always making mistakes. He tore open a secure facility. That facility had living beings in it. He killed all of them. He assumed Fuyutsuki would be kind to him.

Why would anyone be kind to him? Shinji couldn’t remember _giving_ Fuyutsuki a reason to like him. He just remembered the older man always being nice and caring for him, his words soothing Shinji’s soul. There was no reason. Maybe it was pity. Shinji _was_ pitiful. He shouldn’t be surprised that Fuyutsuki _hated_ him and _wanted_ him gone.

He _killed_ _human beings_. He should be outcast.

He was, except, not necessarily in the way he deserved. Earth probably had way more humans than the Moon – it looked like that building on the Moon was huge, so who knew how many more there were? – and that meant he was being rewarded.

No, this was his mission. That’s what it felt like. He had a “target”, who sounded like it was a person. Did he have to kill him, too?

A nasty voice spoke up. “Don’t you remember? It’s _you_.”

Shinji hugged himself tighter.

The voice continued. It was his – or the one he was more used to, before he was placed in this beautifully dead body. “They don’t want you anymore. They’re sending down you, a killing machine. That’s all you’ve done up to this point. They’re not even sure if you can do it. Remember? You let them push you around and tell you what to do. You’re a pawn.”

“…no,” Shinji quietly said out loud.

 _Pawn. Pawn. Pawn. Pawn._ This word repeated in Shinji’s mind as the hatch opened. He peered up with one – red – eye at the stranger.

The stranger closed the hatch by pressing a red button on the wall that was concealed by the shutting door. They looked back down at Shinji. Their expression showed no fear, but their body language did. Shinji could _smell it_.

“Hello, Angel,” the stranger said. Their voice carried a carefulness about it. Their eyes were wide but showed neither fright nor caring. They were intent on keeping their distance.

“It figures,” Shinji’s nasty voice told him. Shinji tried to shake it off. Did this body have depression, too?

Shinji himself stared wordlessly. The stranger walked down three more steps, now two from the bottom, the floor where Shinji sat.

“I could kill you,” Shinji told her, accusing himself. He realized it sounded like a threat.

“There’s not much I could do about that,” they replied, “I’ve already entered the room.”

“Why?” Shinji asked. He hated how silky his voice was. It was so kind upon the ears, like the clink of ice against a glass of tea. (He recollected that had no idea how he knew what that sounded like.)

“I’m here to run a check with you,” they explained, combing through their curly hair, “You have to know who you are before you arrive on Earth.”

“I know who I am. I’m Tabris,” he replied sourly. He turned back to press his eyes into his knees, eyelids closed tightly. He didn’t have the time or energy to entertain this person.

He heard shoes clink on the metal floor as the stranger crossed the room. When Shinji looked back up after moments of silence, they were seated on a metal bench supported by chains from the wall, crossing their legs and clipboard and pencil in hand. They looked at Shinji expectantly, a distancing smile on their face.

Shinji glared back at them, but their smile did not falter. Shinji gave up and stood up, walking over to the adjacent bench and sat down, hunched over. The stranger turned to face him.

“So, let’s make this go faster. How much do you know already?” the stranger began to write.

“What’s your name?” Shinji asked. He regretted it. The last time he asked for someone’s name he got their life.

The stranger looked up. “Joshua Watt,” they replied. They took more notes.

Shinji’s eyes gravitated towards their chest. A pair of large breasts poked out through their tight uniform. Shinji’s eyes flitted back up to their face.

“…but you’re a girl,” Shinji countered.

Joshua looked up, eyebrows flying away from their eyes. Their smile was gone momentarily, then returned. They looked down at their chest then laughed. Shinji felt like he was being mocked, and he was right.

“You mean these?” Joshua pointed at their chest, then laughed again, “No, I’m not a girl. That’s silly.”

Shinji’s eyebrows furrowed, “So, then, you’re a boy?” It couldn’t be, but it was worth a shot.

Joshua quirked their mouth to the side at this one, “No. I’m neither.”

Shinji made a face, “So, what are you, then?”

Joshua tucked curly wisps of hair behind their ear, “Don’t treat me like some sort of m-…animal. It’s none of your business, and unimportant to the mission.” Shinji was displeased with this answer but dropped it after they repeated their initial question. Shinji replied that he was told nothing. Joshua looked up at him quizzically at this answer, but wrote down something nonetheless.

“Well,” Joshua chewed on their pencil, “you’re 14, okay? You’re going to attend school in this area-“ They showed Shinji a map and placed their finger on the school. Their skin made Shinji look like he was dead.

Shinji felt like that was his home. It was very familiar. It made him want to barf.

“Also, you have albinism, got it?” Joshua raised their eyebrows for emphasis, then looked off to the side in disgust. _I can’t believe SEELE decided that that was appropriate…_ a similar voice played in Shinji’s head. Shinji realized he had been wondering what Joshua was thinking. Shinji realized he had just read Joshua’s mind. A shiver ran up his arm.

“Okay,” Shinji replied slowly. Joshua kept reading off facts to him. He was in year 8, he loved to go to the beach, his favorite hobby was playing the piano. He used to hate sushi, but it was American food poisoning. He was born in Japan but lived in the United States for most of his life. He didn’t come with his parents because he was under tutelage to be a NERV pilot.

Shinji hated being told who he was, even if it was fake.

He had a lifelong therapist until he came to Japan – Joshua made another face here – and his favorite color was blue. He was to use “he” pronouns – Shinji made a face here – and he was a _boy_. A _normal boy_. Joshua looked up uneasily at Shinji. Shinji shrugged.

“I’m sorry, these are the notes I have been given,” Joshua apologized. Shinji shrugged again. He didn’t really see why there was a problem, or why some of those things even need to be said.

Shinji replied, “I don’t know what it’s like to be an American. I’ve never been there before.”

Joshua snorted, “Yeah, probably not. Just feign any questions about it.”

Shinji looked taken aback, “Won’t they get suspicious if I know a lot about Japan?”

Joshua stopped writing – they’d been writing this whole time and Shinji had blocked it out for the most part – and looked up. They avoided direct eye contact but he could tell that Joshua felt unease at this. Shinji wondered what he had said.

“How would you know about Japan?” Joshua whispered. Ah, that’s what he revealed.

Shinji shifted uneasily, “Um…”

“Were you sent on another mission before this one?” Joshua asked hurriedly in a low tone, “I thought you were injured from something. Those were the rumors. I get to know more about this, you, than the others, but they never told me this!”

They had it all wrong. Shinji bit his lip and looked away. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Tell me-no, I’d get in trouble,” Joshua waved their hand, “Don’t tell me, I don’t need to know.”

“Um. Okay,” Shinji said.

Joshua looked back down at their clipboard, “Anyway, when you get to your living space you will be given a booklet with everything else you need to know. We land on a Sunday – ah, maybe I should tell you the days of the week, it isn’t bad to know – so you’ll have time to go over it before confronting your target.”

“I already…realize that I don’t know many things,” Shinji sighed. Any more slip ups and Joshua might figure something was wrong. As if this whole situation wasn’t weird as hell.

“Okay, well, today is Thursday morning in Japan,” Joshua continued, “There are seven days a week, going from Sunday, Monday, Tuesday…”

Shinji blocked them out again. He didn’t care what day it was. Wait.

“It’ll take three days to get there?!” Shinji blurted out. Again, his soothing voice prevented him from sounding more panicked than he felt. He felt relieved – he thought it would take months! – but also panicked – so soon?! And three days still was a long time! Shinji clenched and unclenched his jaw, gripping the bench under him. His knuckles turned white, if that contrast against his pale skin could even be seen.

“Yes,” Joshua looked at him quizzically.

Shinji exhaled shakily and brought up his knees to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his knees and lowered his head into the crevice created by his body. “O-okay, um, go ahead.”

Joshua continued to explain how human time worked to Shinji. Shinji vaguely wondered why Joshua sounded so clumsy, tripping over their words, when he realized Joshua wasn’t speaking in any Japanese dialect. They were speaking English, and Shinji could understand them anyway. Shinji buried his head further into himself. He felt like crying. It felt unnecessary, and the voices agreed.

He felt alone. He wasn’t human, at least not biologically, and everyone else was. He was lost in the expanse of space with nothing but metal between him and death. Maybe not. He could survive on the surface of the moon. He was unnatural and his memories contradicted and hated each other and these voices wouldn’t leave him alone no matter how much he disliked them. He couldn’t even get the guts to beg them to stop muttering. He didn’t even think it was important for him to stay in their anonymous loop, as he couldn’t understand anything they were saying. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to understand. This was his fault, after all. All of this was his fault. If he hadn’t gone and murdered two officers, he could have stayed on the Moon longer and maybe he could have figured some more out. Now he was being hurtled towards the Earth to kill himself.

Shinji wanted to cry. He wanted it so bad. He wanted to do that to himself, for forever it seemed like, but now that he had to he felt so upset about it.

“Um, Angel? Angel,” Joshua said, their voice coming back into focus. Shinji lifted his head by an infinitesimal amount; that’s all he would let them have.

Joshua took it. They said, “As a final note, I have to leave you with your name!”

Shinji stayed still. He didn’t get why it was so important. He couldn’t bring himself to care about espionage anymore.

Joshua continued to ramble on, oblivious. It was probably on purpose, Shinji mused. He grew more angry. “They said it was really important that you keep your name in mind, and don’t forget it. Almost forget whatever name or names you have! You can’t slip up on this. We don’t know how much anyone knows down there. We’ve worked hard to keep things under tight lock and key but your real name could give them clues into things they don’t need to know. So!”

Joshua giggled softly to themselves. _I sound so much like a teacher_ , Shinji heard them muse. _Shut up_ , Shinji thought back, hoping his nasty comments would reach them.

Apparently not, as Joshua made a few more marks on their clipboard, smiling to themselves.

Then, they said, repeating the words out loud as their eyes skated over the paper in front of them,

“You…are Kaworu Nagisa.”

Shinji saw someone’s head falling into red, red water.


	4. Meeting Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: death, love, murder, public displays of affection
> 
> Asuka uses she/her pronouns in this chapter. Kaworu uses he/him pronouns in this chapter.

Shinji fell asleep. More like, he closed his eyes and saw images he knew were not physically happening to the same body that was beaten with water over a day ago. It was close enough to sleep for him.

He was laying in the grass, in the body he knew. His tan skin was splayed out among the blades. He felt the full force of the dullness of the world again.

He looked next to him. A pale individual who looked to be about his age was laying beside him, his hand about two feet away from Shinji’s own. He was looking over at him with bright, red eyes, adoration showing in his smile. Shinji was confused by the upturned corners of his mouth, being directed at him of all people, and went back to looking at the sky.

With Kaworu, everything was bright, and red, separately. Shinji didn’t deserve a comma, a comma to separate himself from the death that seemed to follow him.

“Kaworu…” Shinji let the name roll off his tongue, not wanting it to escape, wanting to hold onto it forever in his rib cage, where it was safe(r), “Do you ever get headaches, sometimes?”

Kaworu turned his torso to talk directly to Shinji (he could hear it in how much clearer his voice was), “Why do you ask, Shinji?”

Shinji shrugged, “I don’t know, it’s just, sometimes my head hurts, because I’m thinking things, and I wonder, you seem to understand so well, so maybe you have those, too?” He felt much more comfortable around Kaworu these days. “I’m sorry,” he added, “If I’m prying and assuming the wrong thing.”

He predicted that Kaworu would shake his head, telling him there was no need to apologize. Shinji glanced over.

Kaworu closed his eyes and shook his head, a small smile still plastered on his face. He opened his eyes again to properly address Shinji, “You don’t have to apologize; I can understand your thought process on this.” Bingo. Shinji groaned internally. Nothing about Kaworu was predictable except for the fact that whenever Shinji apologized, Kaworu denied it.

He guessed it was because his words meant nothing, but Shinji shook this off. Thinking bad things about himself, when in relation to Kaworu, felt wrong, as if he was doing a disservice to his own existence.

Kaworu said, “I do have headaches, actually.”

In one of the alien’s pauses, Shinji interjected. “You do?!”

Kaworu nodded, propping up his head with his hand, and said, “The lack in my abilities to control the future doesn’t upset me, but the outcomes I tend to come across do.” Kaworu took another pause. “I guess you could say my story is depressing.”

Shinji replied, “Well, I know what you mean.”

Kaworu continued, “If I were a Lilin, I’d probably get diagnosed with something.” Beet-red eyes glanced over at cerulean ones. “That was the correct term, right?”

Shinji nodded.

Kaworu looked bothered. Shinji offered consolation and he brushed him off.

Another pause. “Shinji, the world is desolate,” Kaworu said, “So, can I tell you something?”

Shinji understood. He’d been doing just that this whole time. Shinji nodded.

“I think I killed someone,” Kaworu murmured. Oddly, despite the world’s history with Angels and the mass destruction and death that seemed to follow, Kaworu seemed perfectly distraught with this notion. Shinji pressed further.

“It was…” (For the first time, Kaworu paused in the middle of a phrase, leaving Shinji in suspense.) “…regrettable. I did not go seeking out murder. It still happened, and it is still my fault that part of Lilin lost their life. That that person is dead.” Kaworu glanced at Shinji, and held his eyes once he saw that Shinji was looking directly at him.

Shinji responded, “Maybe it was because you were so upset. I mean, you know.”

Kaworu’s eyebrows came together in an upset knot. “I know…?”

“You just said…” Shinji trailed off, not finishing, hoping Kaworu would understand.

He always did. “I am positive that was not the reason.”

Shinji blurted, “But, you know, sometimes it gets so bad…not that I would know!” He said that too quickly. “But if you were really upset, and powerful…wouldn’t you? Kill someone?” He almost added, _The_ Angels _did it._

“No,” Kaworu replied, “Even if that was the case, it is no reason to pity me, or excuse my actions, or even demonize them. Murder is murder.”

“But murder is bad!” Shinji countered.

“I agree,” Kaworu replied softly, “And Lilin aren’t.”

“So…?” Shinji prompted.

“To assume one of a kind will take a specific course of action in the case of a certain stimuli is to blame all of their kind of a heinous crime,” Kaworu looked away from Shinji, “The oppressed collective cannot be guilty.”

Shinji went silent and looked down the hill as well. Green pastures rolled up and down with the earth. They eventually faded into a bright blur on the horizon, kissing the baby blue sky, promising it life in return for its evidence of light.

“There is so much promise on this planet,” Kaworu said.

Shinji muttered something about him ruining that for everyone. Kaworu replied poetically about the trials and tribulations of evolution, and how all will come to how it should be, again, one day. Shinji said he probably wouldn’t be alive then to see it, so what’s the point, and Kaworu chuckled and asked him what the point of them being together was now.

A pink tint crept across Shinji’s nose. “I don’t know, it’s fun,” he retorted.

Kaworu nodded. “Will we be able to, ah, hang out, forever?”

Shinji’s eye lids flew up. He clenched his jaw and sat up. “What’s that supposed to mean?! I can’t…” Was Kaworu planning on leaving him? His mind flew back to the mention of the Curse of the Eva, and how the world had changed and yet they didn’t. How Asuka still looked 14. How he still looked 14.

Kaworu said, “I mean, is it temporally and physically possible?”

Oh. Shinji settled back down. “No, I guess not…”

Kaworu nodded. “Yes, that’s right. We will both return to our rightful places eventually, and that may very well be the end of our fun time together, for then.” A pause. “But does that make it worthless, for now?”

“No!” Shinji blurted out again. He grew embarrassed and shuffled around uncomfortably, without purpose. He settled for cradling his knees in his arms, hunching over and staring at the empty, vibrant horizon. “What I mean is…I like it, and not that there’s nothing else to do, I mean I was reading, and there’s the piano, and talking walks. But that isn’t anywhere near as fun, and enjoyable. I mean, what I mean to say is, it’s…”

“It fills you with purpose?” Kaworu supplied. Shinji allowed the alien a small smile and nodded. Kaworu’s face lit up with a grin in response.

“Me, too,” Kaworu traded his toothy grin for a wide one, “I feel very accomplished when I’m with you, Shinji.”

Shinji let out a noncommittal noise and blushed. He gathered courage – courage was different around Kaworu, it wasn’t the uncomfortable and dull burn of sickness and dread crawling up his insides, maliciously tickling his organs until it clogged his throat, only draining the words others wanted to hear, because now that drain had been cleaned out, no more expectant mold lay there, and he could say what he wanted and chase his own dreams, which Kaworu had taught him so much about, and even though this feeling that made him cry tears of joy felt like a sun forcing its way out of his throat, he still felt like a sunrise, it was his sunrise, every single one was, and it was help he was receiving from Kaworu, not some forced agenda – in his heart and replied, “I feel very accomplished with you, too, Kaworu.”

“Let me hear it in your own words.”

Lately, Kaworu had become more of a friend than the pedestal the alien himself was putting Shinji on – as in, from time to time, the words the alien spoke had a selfish intent (naturally so, Shinji had revealed a lot about himself but neither could truly say they _knew_ the other, yet). Shinji wasn’t uncomfortable by his occasional pushiness, so he saw it as Kaworu growing more comfortable around him.

“I love you, too, Kaworu.” Shinji plucked these words from a memory.

Kaworu was surprised, but showed it in the form of his mouth curling softly, his eyes narrowing to make way for the second grin in five minutes. He was blushing.

Shinji sputtered and looked away, hiding his own pink(er) face. “It just came out, I don’t know what…!”

Kaworu was silent, and Shinji wasn’t facing him, but he knew that the alien understood. That was really all Shinji needed.

 

* * *

 

Shinji woke up, gasping for air. It was unnecessary, and the voices agreed.

Cold steel and grey metal surrounded him. He was still in the pod.

Shinji raised his hand to his face. Pale.

_To assume one of a kind will take a specific course of action in the case of a certain stimuli is to blame all of their kind of a heinous crime._

Well, he certainly was one of a kind.

_The oppressed collective cannot be guilty._

Then who can? Then _what_ can?

 _The_ Angels _did it._

“Don’t shift the blame away from yourself,” the nasty voice sneered. Shinji’s more familiar voice was back. “You did it, too. Does that make you an Angel?”

No.

“But you destroyed humankind,” the voice accused, “You tore it apart without caring because you were so selfish. The Angels came by themselves for a purpose. You had a purpose too, right? You were going to save her.”

Who?

“Wow, so not even those you want to save from dying are special enough to remember?”

It’s not my fault. I can’t remember anything.

“Except for me,” the voice seemed to smile through its words, “You remember me.”

“You’re _truly_ special.” These words echoed, with the rebounded voice sounding much heavier and full. Much more accusing, and sarcastic. With much more hatred.

_Asuka._

 

* * *

 

“Huh? What about her?” Shinji asked. They were sitting on the piano bench, facing away from the instrument. Today, Kaworu didn’t want to play. Recently, he didn’t feel the need to communicate what he couldn’t verbalize through song, and Shinji didn’t feel like straining himself to play. From both ends, their silent suggestions sufficed, and so they didn’t play.

Kaworu grew uncomfortable, “I feel so tainted, speaking about her behind her back.” _I barely know her_ , Kaworu’s glancing eyes seemed to say.

This _was_ talking behind her back.

“She hasn’t been introduced,” Shinji admitted, “but if you’re worried, well, ah, you’ve listened to me. I should return that favor.”

Kaworu held up his palm, then placed it on the back of Shinji’s hand. Shinji shifted his arm at the touch, still unused to it, but did not move his hand.

“I listen because I want to,” Kaworu said, “ _Truly_.” Another pause. “Your offer is so desirable, though, I guess I cannot resist.” Kaworu looked away; a pause. “I am not the kind to speak of those when they are not around, especially when undeserving.” _Not anymore, anyway_ , Kaworu’s desire to gossip seemed to say.

Shinji urged him on. Kaworu laughed nervously before spilling the beans.

“I have suspicions that she would not appreciate my assistance to you,” Kaworu intertwined their fingers slowly, as not to startle the other. “She seems to value independence very much.”

Shinji groaned. “That’s Asuka,” Shinji replied, “That’s just how she is.”

“There’s always a reason, though, no?” Kaworu countered, “I guess that does not matter as much as the effect, though.”

There was comfortable silence, then: “Why are you so worried?”

“Well,” Kaworu said. Shinji waited.

Kaworu turned to look Shinji in the eyes. Bright, red met cerulean. “Will you believe me, Shinji?” Kaworu asked softly.

It wasn’t a _when_ question, more of an _always?_ “Yes,” Shinji answered.

“I don’t want to be broken from you,” Kaworu continued nervously. His eyes flickered to the sides. He seemed to be wary of some future event; Shinji didn’t know what, but Kaworu was smart enough to handle it, so he didn’t pry.

“Me neither.”

 

* * *

 

 

Shinji faded back in.

A digital clock had opened from a slot on the upper part of the pod’s wall some time ago, revealing that they had five hours until landing. It had been three hours since then.

Shinji was still curled up on the pod’s floor, long and lanky arms wrapped around black jeans. He glared up at the red. It wasn’t truly that color, more orange-ish than his own eyes. Instead of making him feel dread, he felt sick and guilty and weak, staring up at imminence.

The door slid open again. It was Joshua.

“We’ll be landing soon, please prepare,” Joshua said. Their tone was devoid of any of the curious giddiness from earlier.

“Help me,” Shinji replied.

Joshua paused, not wanting to stutter. “I don’t think I’d be capable of that,” they said, and hurriedly returned to the control room and shut the door.

Shinji buried his face into his knees.

How could he forget?

By meeting himself, he would meet Asuka.  


	5. Contours (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaworu uses they/them pronouns in the current loop, he/him in the previous loop. Asuka uses she/her pronouns.
> 
> warnings for: abuse, incorrect use of pronouns

Shinji had introduced them to dreams many loops ago.

_“Kaworu, I had a bad dream last night,” Shinji admitted, grasping his knees like he always did. He looked like he wanted an eggshell to form around him. Kaworu always wanted to tell him that he could protect him much more, but he guessed that was why Shinji hadn’t already been sealed up in some sort of magical white casing long ago._

_“Dream?” he asked._

_Shinji looked up at Kaworu. “Yeah, a dream.”_

_Both of them looked at the other. Shinji, being the less patient one by far (luckily for both of them, or they’d be here for eternity…not that Kaworu would mind staring at Shinji’s face for that long), eventually blurted, “You do know what a dream is, right?”_

_Kaworu shook his head._

_Shinji’s eyebrows slanted upwards. “You’ve never had a dream?” he asked. Kaworu heard…exasperation. He smiled._

_“Humans...dream,” Shinji said, then turned to him, “I don’t know why you’ve never heard of it before.”_

_Kaworu wrapped his arms around his knees like Shinji. He knew he looked more relaxed doing it, but tried to mimic Shinji’s pose as much as possible. It worked, as Shinji looked him up and down and exhaled roughly._

_“Please, tell me more,” Kaworu cocked his head to the side, resting it on his arm._

_Shinji looked away at the sky, much of it revealed through the gaps in the metal structure surrounding them. “You go to sleep and you see things. It’s not necessarily reality, it’s just…your brain making sense of things sometimes, and we think that our dreams can even warn us of future events, or tell us something important.” Shinji glanced down. “And I had a bad one.”_

_Kaworu frowned. “Oh, no.”_

_Shinji stayed still, so Kaworu pressed further._

_“I…” Shinji planted his chin in between his knees. “You…”_

_Kaworu leaned forward by an infinitesimal amount._ No.

_Shinji snapped his head away. “Nevermind.”_

They had felt a pang deep in their chest when Shinji looked away like that, refusing to tell them. They knew it had something to do with him, and Kaworu hoped that Shinji hadn’t remembered something from a previous loop.

Kaworu believed in Shinji, but he knew he couldn’t handle remembering seeing Kaworu repeatedly die.

This dream, however, was a pleasant one. He was standing in the red ocean. An adult Lilin stood some paces away from him in the water, the ocean laping at their hips where it came up to the middle of Kaworu’s thighs.

The Lilin was staring at them with gentle, dead, blue eyes. Their brown hair curved around their jaw as if attracted to their chin, which jutted out towards Kaworu.

Kaworu looked down. He was clothed, the Lilin was naked.

They stayed there like that for who knows how long – oddly, Kaworu could not keep a perfect track on reality, but he attributed that to the fact he was dreaming. The Lilin kept smiling at him. Kaworu somehow felt that they’d had this dream sparsely before, and it should have upset them, but he felt completely unattached emotionally from this scene. Was this meant for someone else?

That Lilin did look familiar. The soft slant of their jaw, the curved line of their lower eyelashes, the peek of their nose from the contours of their face –

Kaworu’s contentedly lidded eyes flew open. Shinji’s…relative.

They didn’t have the chance to ask, as something hard smacked into his forehead. Kaworu woke up.

A Lilin stood over him. A different one. Her hair was like a splash of fire. Her presence dictated that he should be burnt, and Kaworu felt themselves silently agreeing. Kaworu blinked the sleep away from their eyes. That was weird.

“What time were you planning on waking up?!” Asuka’s blue eyes shot daggers at them. “I spent _three minutes_ in your house searching for your lazy butt! Do you really think you’re worth that time? Are you trying to play games with me?”

Kaworu was about to reply but Asuka cut them off. “I don’t want to hear a _single word_ from you,” she sneered. She spun on her heel, dipping her head uncomfortably to make sure her hair slapped Kaworu in the face. She threw a nasty “Grow up!” before striding out of the bedroom.

Kaworu rubbed their cheek. No wonder Shinji was never a morning person.

 

* * *

 

Kaworu flushed immediately when coming across the two other Lilin in the kitchen.

The King of Lilin and…Ritsuko?

Both of them looked disheveled, Kaworu understood that, but…together outside of work?

Gendo Ikari was doing something despondently at the sink – Kaworu couldn’t see from this angle – and Ritsuko was eating half a slice of toast at the large wooden table. She didn’t spare a glance at Asuka, who made the whole room tremor boastfully as she passed through it. The doctor, however, did look up at them.

“Good morning, Ikari,” she spoke. Kaworu nodded and quickly followed Asuka. He tried to reach out to Gendo Ikari, see how he felt at their response, read his mind, but couldn’t. He should have expected as much.

They both sat on the bus. Asuka looked bothered by the fact that Kaworu was sitting next to her. They couldn’t help it. There were no other seats.

“I can’t believe we both had to move out here,” she immediately began to snarl at the chair in front of her, “It’s such an inconvenience! You’d think NERV would be able to get any housing they wanted to, and where better than right between headquarters and the school? Nooooo, they want to be a pain in our asses again.” Asuka whipped her head around to look at Kaworu. “And you! They did it because of that stunt you pulled, I bet-“

“Stunt?” Kaworu asked meekly.

“You just had to go and save her,” Asuka scoffed, and changed her voice to a wheedling version of somebody else’s, “’Oh, Shinji Ikari is so great! So selfless! He’s such a hero, he’s this, he’s that-‘”

“’They’re’,” Kaworu corrected.

Asuka stopped her tirade to look wide-eyed at him. “What?”

“’They’re’,” Kaworu repeated.

“… _What?_ Shinji, I swear to God, if you’re pulling some-“

“You said ‘he’. It’s ‘they’,” Kaworu stated.

Asuka went silent. She blinked once, twice, and made a face that Kaworu couldn’t distinguish. Insulted, perhaps? She crossed her arms and threw herself against the back of her seat, looking out of the window.

 

* * *

 

 

Kaworu spent the rest of the ride examining their new body. Newer than usual, as the tan skin stretched across the meager muscles Kaworu already knew Shinji had. His fingers were longer – his, as he was not inhabiting his own body, but Shinji’s – and pudgier at the ends, instead of slender and ghostly. Kaworu went to rubbing Shinji’s jaw, ignoring Asuka’s confused glare. The sides of his face came together in a soft slant. The underside of his eyes curved softly, as not to disturb Shinji’s still-developing cheekbones. His nose was small but definite, poking out from the contours of his face.

Kaworu couldn’t remember feeling more giddy than this. He knew Asuka was shooting him grunts and angry glances at his toothy grin but Kaworu couldn’t help it.

Maybe this time Kaworu wouldn’t die. They would find Shinji and they’d save the world and still be together.

Reveling in this happiness, as opposed to the storm cloud of dread that Kaworu knew they had to keep at bay, being in Shinji’s body and all, they didn’t account for the fact that, if it was true, then it wasn’t Kaworu themselves fate targeted.

There was still another piece of him in this universe.


End file.
